


Second Child, Restless Child

by catie_writes_things



Series: The Arrangement [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula's ongoing art therapy, F/M, Family, Fire Lady Katara, Gen, Katara and Zuko (Avatar) are Parents, Married Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catie_writes_things/pseuds/catie_writes_things
Summary: After three years of marriage, Katara and Zuko finally make a trip to Ember Island together. Katara has her reasons for wanting to confront Azula again.(Coda to Peace & Love)
Relationships: Azula & Katara (Avatar), Azula & Ursa (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: The Arrangement [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985249
Comments: 7
Kudos: 207





	Second Child, Restless Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamfitzwilliamdarcy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfitzwilliamdarcy/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Katie!
> 
> This story is a coda to my Zutara Week fic [Peace & Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535011/chapters/61956514), but feel free to also imagine that her fic [(Leave What's) Heavy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372066) has also taken place prior.

The port at Ember Island was small, for the island itself was not very big, which meant the royal family had to take one of the smaller ships in the fleet to get there. The Fire Lady didn’t mind, however. Their cabin might be more confined than the stateroom aboard the royal flagship, and fewer attendants might have come with them, but she had lived most of her life without such luxuries. And aboard the smaller vessel, Katara felt closer to the sea, which always put her in a good mood.

She was going to need all the help she could get to feel good about this trip, anyway.

Standing at the bow of the ship as they came into port under the stars did help. Having her two-year-old daughter nestled in her arms helped, too. The little Princess Kya was asleep at the moment, but Katara knew once the full moon rose that night she would stir awake again - her golden-eyed firstborn, it seemed, was likely to be a waterbender one day. Katara tucked the edges of her dark blue cloak tighter around the child in her arms and held her a little closer at this thought, knowing not everyone would be pleased when that day came.

But even that was not really what she was anxious about just then.

“I thought I might find you here,” came a low voice from behind her. Katara turned and offered her husband a faint smile. Zuko was dressed like a naval officer, armor and all, as was expected of the Fire Lord whenever he was aboard ship, but had foregone wearing the crown in his neat topknot at that moment. “You’re not cold, are you?”

Katara shook her head. There was a chill ocean breeze, but she was dressed warmly and used to far colder climates. It hadn’t been so long that she had lived in the Fire Nation that she had forgotten the icy polar winds of her birthplace. Bundling her cloak around herself and her daughter offered a different sort of comfort. “I’m scared,” she admitted.

“You still don’t have to come,” Zuko said, coming to her side and putting an arm around her shoulders. The stiff plates of his armor made the gesture a little awkward, but she appreciated it nonetheless. “You and Kya can stay here on the ship while I go ashore.”

“Your mother would be very disappointed if we came all this way and didn’t let her see her granddaughter,” Katara replied, shifting Kya slightly in her arms. Zuko smiled down at their daughter, as he always did, his eyes all but glowing in the dark.

“That’s true,” he admitted. “But she could come see you on the ship just as easily.”

“And leave you to face Azula alone?” Katara tried to joke. But there was a tremor in her voice she could not suppress. Zuko had seen his sister a number of times since the war’s end, Katara had even faced her again, years ago, when they had gone to find Ursa. But for some reason, now, all she could think of was the orange skies of the comet’s passage, and what Azula had done that day.

Her hair was pulled back in a braid, but Zuko brushed his fingertips against the side of her face as if tucking her hair back anyway. “It wouldn’t be like that,” he said softly. Of course, he knew exactly what she was thinking of, what she was remembering. “She’s gotten a lot better since then.”

“I know,” Katara said firmly. She had read the reports that the doctors sent to the Fire Lord, and would never have brought her daughter anywhere near Ember Island if she really believed Azula was still a threat in that sense. It wasn’t violence or betrayal from the exiled princess that she was afraid of. “If she’s better, if you can face her, then so can I.”

Zuko let his hand fall from her face to rest on their daughter’s dark curls. “As long as you know that you don’t have to.”

“No,” Katara said, shaking her head again as she gazed at the island steadily growing nearer ahead of them. The Fire Lord’s beach house was on the other side of the island, secluded, far from the port, but she could picture it well in her mind. That was where they had spent the final weeks of the war, after all, leading up to Aang’s last disappearance and their desperate search, all culminating in that Agni Kai in the courtyard of the palace she now called home. “I need to do this,” she insisted.

Zuko said no more.

* * *

Ursa did come to greet them on the ship the next morning, and while she hugged both Katara and Zuko tightly, it was Kya who rightfully captured most of her attention. “Look how big she’s gotten!” she enthused, lifting her granddaughter high in the air and making her giggle. “Has Uncle Iroh just spoiled you senseless, little princess?”

“Not for lack of trying,” Zuko replied dryly. He had left off his armor today, and stood less stiffly in his casual clothes. Katara wished she felt as relaxed as he looked, but in spite of being genuinely glad to see Ursa, the unsettled feeling in her stomach had only gotten worse since last night. She felt irritated with herself over this - she had faced down Azula in far more dangerous situations before, had even spent a good deal of time in close quarters with her during the search for Ursa. Seeing her again now shouldn’t be this much of a problem.

Then again, her reasons for facing Azula this time were new.

They went ashore and made their way across the island to the Fire Lord’s house. It was strange to Katara to think that now Zuko was the house’s rightful owner, unchanged as its outward appearance was from the final days of the war. Katara knew that she certainly looked different from the last time she had been here - not only older, a wife and mother, but able to wear blue openly, as she had chosen to do. She had fixed a golden flame in her hair, but it was not the Fire Lady’s crown she wore today, just an ordinary ornament like any well-to-do Fire Nation matron might wear.

Ursa, she noticed, was wearing one quite similar.

As they entered the house, Ursa handed Kya back to Zuko, and the little girl rested her head against her father’s shoulder. “Azula’s probably in the sun parlor,” Ursa explained, clasping her now empty hands in the first sign of her own nervousness about this meeting. “I’ll go get her. Make yourselves at home.” She waved one hand towards the seating area in the main room, and then hurried off into the southern wing of the house.

Neither Katara nor Zuko sat down. “The sun parlor?” Katara asked, unsure which room Ursa had been referring to.

“Yeah,” Zuko replied as Kya suddenly picked up her head and began squirming to be set down. He placed her on her feet, but kept a firm hold of one hand. “The room with all the big windows. My mom keeps potted plants there now.”

Katara nodded, recalling the room. She had stolen away there a few times when she had just needed a quiet moment, during their hideout on Ember Island, but it had been mostly bare at the time, empty earthenware pots the only sign it had ever been lived in. She was not surprised to learn that her mother-in-law had restored the room to its intended purpose - Ursa had always been fond of gardening, after all.

Kya explored the large main room, toddling between the low couches and tables and shelves filled with decidedly breakable things, though with Zuko following her around and gently redirecting her little hands away from anything fragile, Katara wasn’t too concerned. Still, she could not relax enough to allow herself to sit down, and fought the urge to pace the room. She was about to wonder aloud what was taking so long when one particular object that Zuko nudged out of Kya’s reach caught her eye.

“Did you make that?” she asked, pointing to the impression of a child’s hand in simple fired clay. She didn’t remember seeing it at the house before.

“Yeah,” Zuko replied with a sort of embarrassed smile. “I, uh, kind of hid it, but I guess my mom found it and put it back out again.”

“Mine broke in the kiln,” a female voice added from behind them, and Katara turned sharply to meet Azula’s eye. “The flames were too hot.”

_ The flames were too hot, and the princess’s laughter was cruel, and she couldn’t get to Zuko no matter how hard she tried… _

“Azula,” Katara said calmly. It wasn’t the exiled princess herself that she was afraid of. “It’s good to see you again.” But she had unconsciously taken a step backwards, closer to her husband, and Zuko had picked Kya back up again in spite of her whining protests.

Azula raised one eyebrow. “Is it really?” She looked better than when Katara had last seen her - her hair was neatly pinned up in a simple Fire Nation style that Katara wore herself sometimes, and there was no hint of madness in her eyes anymore. There was also nothing of the cruelty she remembered, Katara realized after a moment. As Zuko and the doctors had both said, she had changed.

“Well, I certainly think it’s wonderful to have all of you here,” Ursa put in, smoothing over the tension of the moment. She put one hand gently on Azula’s arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to show them some of your finished artwork?”

“Katara didn’t come here to see my drawings,” Azula replied, then finally broke eye contact to look over at Zuko. “Hello, brother. And niece.”

Kya stopped fussing in her father’s arms and stared at her aunt, wide-eyed.

“You’re looking well, Azula,” Zuko replied politely. “And I  _ would _ like to see your drawings. Have you been using the charcoals I sent you?”

Azula waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, mother can show you those if you really care,” she said, though Katara thought there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. But when she met Katara’s eye again, Azula was stone-faced. “The Fire Lady has business with me first, doesn’t she?”

Katara squared her shoulders. “Yes,” she said with confidence that she hoped did not belay her anxiety. “I do.”

* * *

Ursa did take Zuko and Kya to look at some of Azula’s more recently completed artwork, while Azula herself retreated back to the sun parlor with Katara on her heels. Zuko had been reluctant to leave the two of them alone, but had acquiesced at Katara’s insistent look.

When Zuko had said his mother kept potted plants, Katara had imagined a few flowers or maybe a small shrub, but the warm room she stepped into was so crowded with greenery she almost didn’t recognize it. There were flowering vines growing on a trellis against one wall, several potted ficus trees, and even an indoor pond set up in one corner with lotuses floating on its surface.

“Wow,” Katara said appreciatively. “Your mother did all this?”

“Yes,” Azula replied, sitting on a cushion in front of a low table in the middle of the room, where a set of well-used drawing charcoals sat next to a sketchbook, firmly shut. “She grows things, and I draw things. Life and the pretty imitation thereof.” She rested her hands lightly on the table in front of her, glanced pointedly at Katara’s midsection, then back up at her face. “So, are you worried the second one is cursed?”

Katara started and put one hand over her still flat stomach. Just like last time, she had noticed the signs early on and been able to confirm the pregnancy with her waterbending. But only she and Zuko knew. They hadn’t even told Ursa yet. “How did you…”

Azula shrugged. “Why else would you want to come here, to see me?”

“Zuko wanted us to come,” Katara deflected, letting her hand fall back to her side. She couldn’t let Azula rattle her.

“But you haven’t come, until now,” Azula pointed out. “He really is slavishly devoted to you.” She inspected her fingernails, which were neatly trimmed but otherwise unmanicured. Katara remembered they had always been painted red, before. “So the question is why would  _ you _ want to see me, and the obvious answer is you’re looking for some kind of insight into what keeps going wrong with the second born in each generation of our family.”

Katara frowned. Azula was good at reading people in a way she herself never had been. Azula had known just what to do to get Zuko to jump in front of her lightning, meanwhile it had taken Katara nearly a year of marriage and having his child to figure out that her own husband was in love with her. “You really don’t think there could be any other reason?”

“Is there?” Azula asked doubtfully, looking up from her nails. She gestured towards the opposite side of the table, where there was another cushion, presumably where Ursa usually sat. “Enlighten me.”

Katara took the proffered seat, acutely aware of Azula’s eyes on her the whole time - not like a predator, as Katara once would have thought of her, but something hawkishly observant nonetheless. “You tried to kill me,” Katara reminded her. They had never discussed it, during the search for Ursa. Azula hadn’t really been in a fit state to discuss anything at length at that time. “You nearly killed Zuko. And Aang.”

“That was a long time ago,” Azula replied. It didn’t sound like it was meant to be an excuse, and wouldn’t have been a very good one anyway. Azula would never have stooped to such a pathetic gesture. It was a mere statement of fact.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Katara insisted.

“Nor should you.” Azula continued to study her for another moment. “Well, if that’s really what you’re here for…” She took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry.” It was clearly difficult for her to say, but she said it.

Katara frowned, caught off guard by the directness of the apology. It was certainly owed, but not what she had really been seeking. “I don’t...”

“Not satisfied?” Azula interrupted, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “Let’s talk about the real reason you came, then. When is my new niece or nephew expected to arrive?”

There was no use trying to dodge the conversation, Katara decided. She could only try to have it on her own terms. “Early summer,” she answered.

“Perhaps on the solstice?” Azula speculated, raising one eyebrow slightly. “That’s supposed to be auspicious, you know. But I was born on the solstice.” She shrugged, turning her palms upward. “Well, do you know which it is? A niece, or a nephew?”

Katara had been able to tell fairly early on in her first pregnancy, that Kya was a girl. This time, she was even more certain. “It’s a boy.”

“That could make the difference,” Azula mused, folding her arms across her chest. “The girl being older, and the boy younger.”

“You know I was the second born in my family,” Katara pointed out, irritated with Azula’s fatalistic talk. She did not believe Azula was cursed, and neither was her own child, nor would he be doomed to follow in anyone’s footsteps - and if he did, wasn’t it just as likely to be hers as anyone else's? Katara and Sokka had had their quarrels, as any siblings would, but she had always loved her brother.

“My father was the second born, too,” Azula countered. “And look what became of him.”

Katara’s hand curled into a fist, and came down firmly on the table top. “My son will be nothing like…”

“His grandfather?” Azula drummed her short fingernails against her upper arm. “Perhaps you’re right. Zuko did turn out so different, after all.”

Katara sat up a little straighter, feeling like she was making progress at last. “Yes, he did,” she said proudly.

“But you hardly need me to tell you that,” Azula went on. “He’s been proving it to you for years - even when it nearly killed him.” She gave a deferential nod, slight but deliberate. “For which, again, I apologize.”

Katara was less startled this time, but two apologies from Azula in one conversation was something remarkable. “Do you really regret what you did?”

“I know I would have regretted it had I succeeded,” Azula answered evenly. “Does that count?”

“You do care about your brother, then,” Katara prompted.

“Well, maybe I do,” Azula allowed, her eyes slipping away from Katara to gaze out the large windows of the sun parlor, which afforded a splendid view of the beach. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “But Mother would never have forgiven me.”

That, at least, Katara knew was an honest answer. “I guess that’s something.”

Azula abruptly got to her feet. “There is no such thing as curses,” she admitted, pacing over to one of the ficus plants and fingering its leaves. “Just a series of choices we made.”

“That’s what I really wanted to know,” Katara replied. If Azula cared about her brother now, she was still not so great at showing it, and she had certainly wanted him dead in the past, at least at one point. “Why did you make those choices? Why did you hate Zuko?”

This time it was Azula who tried to deflect. “Surely Zuzu’s told you all about our sordid family history.”

“Yes,” Katara admitted. She knew how their father had pitted Zuko and Azula against each other, how their mother’s disappearance had made everything worse - but that was only Zuko’s side of the story. “I want to hear it from you.”

Azula pulled a leaf from the tree with a sharp tug, the closest thing to a violent act she had yet done. “I hated him because my mother loved him, and not me,” she said, holding the leaf up to the sunlight that poured in through the windows so that it seemed to glow a translucent green. “The same reason I later hated you. Is that what you needed to hear?”

“Azula,” Katara said cautiously, wondering if she was going to set the leaf on fire. “Your mother does love you…”

“Now she does,” Azula replied bitterly. Returning to sit at the table, she flipped the sketchbook open to a clean page, pressed the leaf underneath, then picked up one of the charcoals and began rubbing an impression. “Better late than never.” When the dark image had fully appeared on the cream-colored paper, Azula adjusted the leaf and repeated the process, creating more blackened foliage by art rather than bending. “But don’t worry,” she added in a more flippant tone. “You’re so full of love and hope, I’m sure it won’t matter if the second one is a boy or a girl or a great bender or not. You’ll do better.”

Something about the jab struck Katara as oddly familiar. “You haven’t been to see the Ember Island Players lately, have you?” she asked on a whim. A revised production of  _ The Boy in the Iceberg _ was, unfortunately, still the theater company’s greatest hit.

Azula made a face, moving on to her third rubbing of the leaf. “Mother finds them amusing.”

“I’m sorry,” Katara said with a little laugh. “They’re pretty awful.”

“I know,” Azula replied with a huff, her strokes with the charcoal across the paper getting more vigorous. “They make us all into completely flat characters…” The third leaf rubbing finished, she held up the sketchbook to examine her work, adding a few other flourishes before tossing the charcoal back into the box. “But what can you expect from the company that couldn’t even get  _ Love Amongst the Dragons _ right.”

Zuko had complained of something similar, when they had gone to see the play about themselves in its original form. “Well, I certainly won’t subject my children to that,” Katara joked.

“Then you’re doing better already.” Azula didn’t laugh as she said it, and she kept her eyes downcast. But as she set the sketchbook back down on the table, Katara caught her expression change to an emotion she had never seen on Azula before - not anger or scorn or anything so wild or haughty, but only plain sadness. “ _ My _ mother was an only child. What did she know about siblings back then?”

On the page of her sketchbook, the way Azula had positioned the each rubbing of the leaf made the three impressions look like a little grove of trees burnt out after a fire. But, Katara recalled learning years ago, a forest could grow back after being burned down, if given enough time and care.

* * *

They stayed on Ember Island for a few more days, mostly spending time with Ursa, though Azula would at least join them for dinner. Sometimes she came late, still wiping charcoal or paint from her hands as she sat down, and she didn’t make much conversation. But Zuko and Ursa were both clearly glad to have her there, and Katara no longer felt haunted by the past. Indeed, once they informed Ursa that she was going to be a grandmother again soon, the future was much easier to focus on.

On the last afternoon of their stay, Azula asked Ursa to take her into town so she could do some shopping - crowds, Katara recalled, still made her anxious if she was alone. Zuko suggested that they could all go to the market together, but Katara made the excuse that they should spend the time packing instead. If Azula needed her mother to choose her over them, just in this small way, they could let her have that.

But when Ursa and Azula returned to the house that evening, it turned out there was another reason Azula had insisted on the last-minute shopping trip. “This is for my niece,” she announced, handing Zuko a thin metal box which he opened to reveal a basic set of watercolor paints and brushes. “Maybe not right away, but someday she’ll be old enough.”

“Azula,” Zuko said, obviously moved by the mere fact that his sister had thought to give Kya a gift. “This is...thank you.”

Ursa, who had taken Kya in her arms, smiled at the child. “That was nice of your auntie, wasn’t it?” she said, bouncing the girl on her hip. “Can you say thank you?”

“Thay koo!” Kya exclaimed happily.

But Azula had already turned her attention back to the bag of her purchases, from which she withdrew another box. This one was lacquered wood rather than metal, and a bit larger, and she held it out to Katara. “And this is for my nephew.”

Katara slid the box open to find it contained a knife. The blade looked like it was silver plated, while the handle was made from polished wood that shone a glossy black and brown. “This is…” she began hesitantly.

“Also for when he’s older, obviously,” Azula explained quickly. “And it’s made by an artist in town who uses reclaimed wood, and this technique where he chars it and then...well.” She trailed off uncharacteristically, then shrugged. “That’s a bit technical, I suppose. But the burning makes it stronger.”

“Azula’s learning from him,” Ursa said pointedly, throwing a wink in Katara’s direction. Azula noticed, and rolled her eyes at her mother, but Zuko was captivated by the gift in Katara’s hands. Setting Kya’s paintbox aside, he reached for the knife and carefully lifted it out of the box, inspecting the blade.

“You’re giving your nephew a dagger?” Zuko asked slowly.

“It’s not engraved or anything,” Azula replied dismissively. But she was watching her brother as hawkishly as she had watched Katara during their first conversation, clearly waiting to see his reaction.

In the Fire Lord’s private quarters back in the palace, there was an engraved ornamental dagger on display, Earth Kingdom in origin. Katara had asked her husband once why he held on to what was evidently a war trophy, and he had explained that his uncle had given it to him as a gift when he was a child, before his cousin’s death and his mother’s disappearance. He had also mentioned that Azula had always coveted it.

“I…” Zuko began, but he couldn’t seem to finish the thought. Instead, the knife still gripped in his hand, he strode forward and grabbed his sister in a hug, carefully holding the blade away from her. “I’m proud of you, Azula,” he said quietly.

Azula was startled at first, but Zuko held on tight, not letting her pull away, and eventually she returned the hug, one hand patting her brother’s back awkwardly. “Alright, don’t go to pieces on me,” she said gruffly. But when Zuko did let her go, Katara could see that the hint of a smile Azula had let slip when Zuko had shown interest in her artwork had now made another, more definitive appearance. Ursa, for her part, was beaming.

Katara handed the box for the knife to Zuko, and took Kya from her grandmother’s arms. “Brother and sister getting along,” she commented to her mother-in-law. “Nice to see, right?”

“It is,” Ursa agreed, giving Kya’s curls one last caress. “And it’s something you have to look forward to.”

* * *

They left Ember Island that evening, setting sail for the next stop on their royal tour. When they retired to their cabin that night, Katara slipped into bed beside her husband, and Zuko settled his hand over her stomach. “Are you still scared?” he asked, his breath warm against the side of her face.

Katara placed her hand over his, tracing circles on the back of his hand with her index finger. Their second child - their son - was safely nestled there within her womb, and their firstborn daughter slept soundly in her crib just on the other side of their cabin. Sokka and Suki were finally getting married later that year, and would one day have children of their own. Someday, in the future, whichever of Katara’s children succeeded their father as Fire Lord - though she was convinced that Kya, their little waterbender-to-be, would not be the one to wear the crown - the Fire Lord would have first cousins in the Southern Water Tribe. The world was no longer the same as the one she and Zuko had grown up in.

“Not anymore,” Katara replied. There was no such thing as a family curse, no fate that doomed a person to repeat the failures of their parents. Zuko had long been proof of that, and Azula was too, and so would Katara’s own children be. She laced her fingers through Zuko’s, then added, “Are you?”

Zuko was quiet for a moment. He hadn’t voiced any anxieties about the newest addition to their family, and when she had told him she was pregnant again he had certainly reacted better than last time. But even if Katara couldn’t read people as well as Azula could, she certainly knew her husband by now. “I’ve been told that any father worries about his children,” Zuko finally replied. Gently tucking her hair back with his free hand, he placed a kiss on her temple. “But I know mine have a really good mother.”

Katara shifted slightly, turning her face more towards Zuko even though she couldn’t actually see him clearly. “They have a really good father, too.” Then, smiling in the darkness, she couldn’t resist adding in a more playful tone, “But maybe just to be safe, we can break the pattern even further by having lots more of them.”

Zuko gave a low, short chuckle that was half yawn. “You are a very demanding Fire Lady, darling, do you know that?”

“I’ll be the one doing most of the work, dear,” Katara replied with a half-shrug. “Besides,” she added, patting Zuko’s hand over her stomach. “What if he turns out to be a waterbender, too?”

Zuko hummed thoughtfully, a sleepy sound that told her the proposition of having two waterbending children wasn’t going to worry him enough to keep him awake. “Let’s take this one child at a time,” he replied drowsily.

“Fair enough,” Katara agreed, nestling closer to her husband and letting her own eyes drift shut. The future was full of unknowns, after all - but whatever came, she and Zuko would face it together.


End file.
